Map, Ode, Metaphor Day 5

Country Lane

Ode to 669

(My road home.)

Near morning, fog is thick
to the ground, a white mist.
Careful at the turn.
It is one easily missed.
Mr. Meed moves his sheep,
they might stop, just beep.
Sublime, watching deer
eat apples from that tree.
The one belonging to Mrs. B.
Unyielding, Amish  along the way.
Little children always wave.
Watch for critters,
they frolic and play,
sure to get in the way.
Around the curve, then swerve.
In the dark, it is daring
with the sunroof open
and the music blaring.
The earlier the better,
she would always say.
On Fridays, waiting by the door
Worried I had forgotten.
That road, it’s my death.
Things aren’t worked out yet.
I drove that road every day.
For me, it was ten thousand miles
and impossible to get away.
Always wanting me to stay.
I’ll never drive that road
and not cry.

Writing 201 Poetry
Assignment
Make today’s poem about a space you inhabit (or wish to. Or would rather avoid).
Today’s form: ode
Today’s device: metaphor

Credit:
Photo (road) by GhostDragon

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4 thoughts on “Map, Ode, Metaphor Day 5”

  1. This is a moving, powerful poem, and I am filled with a sense of your regret and loss. These lines, especially, move me:
    “Things aren’t worked out yet.
    I drove that road every day.
    For me, it was ten thousand miles
    and impossible to get away.
    Always wanting me to stay.
    I’ll never drive that road
    and not cry.”

    Liked by 1 person

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